


It's Only Us When Words Fail

by WordsWhisperInTheDark



Series: The Archive [3]
Category: Gintama
Genre: Angst and Feels, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, M/M, Spoilers around the Farewell Shinsengumi Arc
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-02
Updated: 2020-04-02
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:32:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,842
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23416018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WordsWhisperInTheDark/pseuds/WordsWhisperInTheDark
Summary: Set either the night and morning before Gin-chan wakes up in Akiba where Shinpachi and Kagura are distributing those ridiculous posters / the night and morning after speaking to Nobume about Utsuro.
Relationships: Katsura Kotarou/Sakata Gintoki
Series: The Archive [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1683964
Comments: 4
Kudos: 62





	It's Only Us When Words Fail

**Author's Note:**

> Set either the night and morning before Gin-chan wakes up in Akiba where Shinpachi and Kagura are distributing those ridiculous posters / the night and morning after speaking to Nobume about Utsuro.

His skin burned. His muscles were too tight and his breath too shallow. Gintoki wrestled with the blanket that confined him until finally tearing it off. His sweat cooled too quickly. He began to shiver. 

Dreams came to him more frequently, in the aftermath of the events that had transpired with the Shogun and the Shinsengumi. Dreams of steel crunching through muscle, cartilage, bone. Dreams of a single eye full of hatred and yearning for revenge, while sad, olive eyes merely comforted. Dreams of a battlefield, where four young men swam in gore. Dreams of an island, where a face he had loved so dearly stood on enemy lines.

“I-I'm sorry.” It came out through short, shuddering gasps. How many times had he uttered those words due to his own shortcomings? Flashes of that man and those Gintoki swore to protect swirled in his mind. He threw up nothing, leaving his throat and wounds raw. Salt stung his eyes, his silver hair clinging to his neck. 

The door slid open with a bang. He tensed, hand straining to grip his _bokuto_. Light spilled into his room - it was too harsh in contrast to the darkness he had been in. The darkness he was always in. 

Blobs of red and blue made their way towards him. The grip on his _bokuto_ tightened. 

“Gin-san, it's ok, it's just us,” the blue one murmured. The voice was familiar. A boy, maybe sixteen or seventeen; his age during the war. Gintoki panted as battles stained his vision. He needed to get away. 

A hazy halo of orange leaned over his face. "Gin-chan…" A girl. Her voice trailed off, concern audible in her tone. 

Another figure entered the doorway, blocking the light. The figure seemed to be speaking to the two children beside him. Gintoki's breathing was too loud in his cotton-filled ears to hear their entire conversation. 

“I don't know. We came in and Gin-san was already like this,” the boy replied. The girl stroked Gintoki's silver hair gently. 

The figure exhaled slowly, a blurry hand running through straight strands of hair - Zura. 

“Don't let him get close.” Gintoki's voice sounded harsh against his ears. He struggled to sit up, raising his _bokuto_ towards the Joui patriot. 

“But Gin-san, it's just Katsura-san.” The boy sounded confused. 

“I know who he is!” Gintoki snapped. “That's why he shouldn't come nearer.” 

There was tangible shock from the boy; the girl jolted a little. He could sense it - their concern was laced with fear. 

Yet he couldn't let Zura see him like this. Not again. Not when he was this weak and so, so close to breaking. 

Soft footsteps approached. Gintoki shrank back, muscles crying against how tense he was. 

“Leader, Shinpachi-kun. Could you give us a moment?” Katsura's voice was a mere whisper. _Oh, it was Shinpachi and Kagura._ They nodded silently, then padded away into the main room, the door sliding shut.

“Gintoki.” Zura’s hands were soft yet stern, fingers pressing into Gintoki's wrists gently as he knelt on the tatami mats. It was cold where they touched. Given how weak he was, Zura removed the _bokuto_ from Gintoki's grip with ease. Through unfocused red eyes, Gintoki watched as his breath gently ruffled strands of Zura's hair. 

"Gintoki." Firmer this time. The voice of a general. Zura's gaze burned. Gintoki tried to avert his. He knew Zura could see the shadows of guilt that haunted him. He'd always been the best at that. 

Zura's hand rested on Gintoki's cheek, softly forcing the silver-haired samurai to look up. "Look at me." 

Gintoki shook his head meekly. Not again. 

Zura stood, easily lifting Gintoki's pliant body. Supporting him with one arm, Zura used the other to drag the futon and blanket towards the wall. 

"What are you doing, Zura?" Gintoki's voice sounded hollow in his own ears. He watched as Zura settled down into the futon, leaning against the wall. Noticed that Zura did not correct him about the nickname. 

A feminine hand grasped Gintoki's sweaty one, gently guiding him towards the futon. Gintoki tried to pull back. 

"Stop it. I'm fine." 

"No. No you're not. If you were fine, you wouldn't be drenched in sweat and your pulse wouldn't be pounding against my fingers." Zura's grip on Gintoki's hand tightened. "If you were fine, those two would not have heard the voice of the _Shiroyasha_."

Those were the words that broke him. Gintoki placed his head in his free hand, his tears falling through his fingertips. He hated this. Hated how he relied on others as he shattered. Hated how his shattered pieces always hurt those he cared about. 

"Gintoki, focus on me. It's just us, okay?" 

Zura gently pulled Gintoki towards him. He stumbled slightly and ice shot through where Zura grasped his arms to hold him steady. He settled weakly into Zura's lithe frame. Nestling into the crook of Zura's neck, Gintoki inhaled the scent of off-brand conditioner. 

The other man's heartbeat was slightly faster than the calm façade he was displaying. Gintoki noticed how Zura shifted slightly, trying to discreetly move Gintoki's weight from his abdomen. Guilt surged again, as he traced the bandages there. 

"Gintoki," Zura murmured, like he was consoling a child, "Your head is too noisy."

"S-sorry." The word hung in the air, its true meaning clear. _Sorry for not making it to the island in time. Sorry for not reaching you in time. Sorry that you had to protect that stupid gorilla. Sorry that our past stands before us, wearing the face of our teacher._

Zura sighed. “Just close your eyes. I'll be your general for tonight.” 

With that, Gintoki fell. Fell into the embrace of sleep and the claws of the past. 

* * *

_“Oi! You three! Where the hell were you?! We were about… to…" Tatsuma faltered. He had good reason to - the tension radiating from them was palpable. Gintoki noticed Tatsuma's eyes widen fractionally as he noticed Takasugi no longer had two. Silently, he opened the front gate, and the four slipped inside._

_Takasugi's hatred was a fire so hot the air seemed cold. Zura was barely holding it together - Gintoki could see the small tremors in his body that he was trying to hide._

_“How is everyone?” Zura - no, Katsura's voice was steady, but distant._

_"Many dead, many injured. Few survivors." Tatsuma's report was short and to the point, though the burden of guilt weighing on his shoulders was evident in his tired steps. A posture Gintoki was all too familiar with._

_They walked in step, the only sound footfall against stone._

_On the threshold of the temple door, Takasugi made his move. Yanking Gintoki by the collar, he threw him through the door, worn wood splintering beneath the_ Shiroyasha's _body. Gintoki struggled to stand, while resting comrades were roused abruptly._

_"Could you do this later? Preferably not in front of everyone else?" Katsura tried to pass it off as exasperation but Gintoki could hear the strain in his voice._

_"No," came Takasugi's curt reply, voice low and dangerous, "We do this now."_

_Takasugi's knuckles cracked against Gintoki's cheek, pink blooming like a sinister flower. A lesser man's neck would have snapped from the impact._

_"Why?" There was desperation in his voice, his body quivering with rage. Tears threatened to spill from his remaining good eye. "Why did you not save him?! Everything we have done was for him and you saved us! Why, Gintoki?!"_

_Steel flashed in front of Gintoki's eyes. Katsura's blade divided the two men. Tatsuma remained in Gintoki's periphery. He knew not to intervene._

_"I said not now, Shinsuke." Katsura's blade was unsteady. He was at his breaking point._

_Takasugi snarled at him like a wild dog. Gintoki looked down, avoiding their eyes; the pain of his betrayal was written on their faces._

_Quietly, he spoke for the first time since the battlefield, fists clenched, right hand wrapped tightly around his blood-encrusted sword. "I will not explain my decision to you."_

_He expected Takasugi to lunge at him again but he only heard angry footsteps make their way out into the courtyard, the crunch of gravel fading with each step. Turning, he headed deeper into the temple. As he walked away, he could hear the fading voices of Tatsuma and Katsura, carrying out orders for rest. That was good - he needed the world to be silent for once._

_Thankfully, the room he entered was unoccupied. The sun was setting, its fading light trapped in the dust suspended in the air. Finally alone, the adrenaline drained from his body. Lacerations marked Gintoki's arms, legs, and face. Dried blood staunched the flow slowly pulsing out. His throat was sore from yelling, but he hissed when he touched the new bruise decorating his cheek. The fingers on his right arm were stiff; his blade had not left his hand all day._

_Wincing at the movement, Gintoki examined the sword. Alien blood and gore stained the steel. Gintoki wondered how many had fallen prey to his blade. He supposed it wasn't that important. He was a white demon, a killer since his childhood._

_The red drying on the edge was bright in contrast to the rest. The blood of their teacher and saviour. He wondered if it hurt, dying, but decided it no longer mattered. Death was the end. That was all._

_"Gintoki, what the hell are you doing?“ Katsura's voice pierced through the haze. Silver flashed in the air. The sound of metal falling against old wood was grating._

_Gintoki realised then where his sword had been pointing. "I-I didn't - I wasn't - You know I wouldn't-"_

_Sheathing his sword, Katsura pulled him close, hands encircling Gintoki's waist tightly. "Damn it, Gintoki, we can't lose you too. I can't lose you."_

_Guilt was crushing his heart. Gintoki would rather be torn to pieces by Katsura than be embraced so warmly. He didn't deserve this after what he did._

_He struggled to separate them. "Let go. I know you hate me. I know you're keeping calm for Tatsuma and the others' sake."_

_Slowly, Katsura pulled away. The cold air hungrily clung to his warmth on Gintoki's body._

_"I don't hate you."_

_Gintoki let out a laugh of disbelief. "Liar. Only an idiot would pity the man who killed their saviour. Don't you get it, Zura? I killed our Sensei. I_ killed _Shouyou!" His head was pounding; needles were piercing his skull._

_His back hit the wall. He fell to the floor, his legs unable to take the impact. Struggling, he sat up, breathing heavily. The wood behind him creaked a little._

_"I know what you did! I was there, Gintoki." Katsura's voice was trembling. "I watched you helplessly, pitifully on the ground as you took his life. I watched, struggling between holding Takasugi back or myself, as he lunged at you."_

_Katsura tugged at the band tying his hair, his other hand pressed against his forehead. "Damn it! We're just kids. We should be acting like the idiots we are off the battlefield. We should be travelling the country with Sensei and we should have met Tatsuma at some trading port. Instead of staying up planning guerrilla warfare under the stars, the four of us should be arguing about what manga is the best. Yet here we are, barely keeping it together. We can't even focus enough to not tear each other apart."_

_Gintoki stared quietly at the samurai before him. Silken hair covered in grime, clothes torn from battle - and tears streaking down gentle features. Katsura was strong, the only one out of their little group that managed to keep his emotions under control. He was their unwavering general, quiet and composed. Seeing him break down now, Gintoki felt like a knife was stabbing him in the gut._

_A minute must have passed before he spoke. "As a child, I killed to survive. I was always wandering, always alone. I don't even know if I actually have parents, or a family. A normal life was out of the question for me. Hell, my second chance appeared while I sat on a mound of corpses." Gintoki let out a harsh laugh. He never really thought about it, but his life was ridiculously sad._

_"Then, he - Shoyou - brought me to his school and taught me about using a sword, not to kill, but to protect souls. Then you two dumbasses arrived and what family meant to me got a little bigger." He leaned his head back against the wood. Katsura's expression was blank, merely listening._

_"I was happy you know. Even if I didn't show it, I was happy that I was accepted. With you and Sensei, I wasn't the demon child who slaughtered without remorse. When it's just us four, I can be stupid; I can be happy. That's all I've ever wanted. Yet, I still killed the one who forged me - who forged us - into who we are today. So, it's ok to hate me."_

_Two steps, and Katsura closed the distance between them. A single bend of tired knees, and olive eyes were level with clay-red ones. Two breaths, and the space between their lips was closed._

_Katsura tasted of ash and iron. Charcoal hair curtained Gintoki's face, hiding the tears leaving trails on dusty cheeks. When they broke apart, slender fingers wound themselves into silver hair._

_"Zura, what are you doing?" Gintoki's voice was breathy, the shock of the kiss shooting through his body._

_"It's not Zura, it's Katsura. I'm kissing you, isn't that obvious? Stupid perm-head." Gintoki chuckled softly at Zura's trademark retort, at his blushing cheeks._

_Their second kiss burned with slow intensity. Zura tugged at Gintoki's hair, causing Gintoki to gasp into his mouth. Gintoki pulled Zura towards him, the other samurai neatly falling on his lap. Zura's hands dropped to Gintoki's shoulders, while Gintoki's rested comfortably on Zura's waist. When they pulled away, their breath was heavy._

_“Gintoki.”_

_His name sounded too sweet on Zura's lips. He pulled Zura toward him, mouthing at his jaw, but Zura pushed him back against the wall. Zura's eyes, darkened by sadness, remained focused._

_"Listen to me. Do not burden yourself with the death of Sensei. We all had a duty, and we could not deliver."_

_Tears streaked down the silver-haired samurai's face. The lack of hatred in Zura's voice was too much._

_"So I don't hate you. I can't. Even though you're brash, rude, careless-"_

_"Are you even trying to comfort me?"_

_Zura smiled in amusement at the crease in Gintoki's brow. "Even though the idiot perm-head in front of me barrels through life like a lazy storm, he is a good person. I knew that from the first time we met." Zura's gaze was soft and his breath against Gintoki's cheek was so gentle, so caring._

_"So promise me, when this is all over, we stay together. We start over, never forgetting, but using our past to make us stronger. Promise me you won't change, and you won't leave."_

_Outside, dusk made way for tepid twilight. Crickets chirped, and fireflies danced lazily outside the open window. Rough hands gently roamed across tired fabric, feeling the toned muscle underneath, before caressing delicate cheeks._

_Zura's hands gently squeezed tight shoulders. "Promise me, Sakata Gintoki."_

_Gintoki kissed him again - if he answered immediately, he knew he would choke on his words. Zura leaned into him, breath light and airy. Finally, he replied, his answer a quiet murmur against Zura's lips._

_"I-I promise, Katsura Kotarou."_

_Zura smiled then, a tired but genuine smile. He settled into Gintoki's body, careful not to disturb new wounds. The gesture almost made Gintoki cry again. The night was peppered with gentle kisses, until they fell asleep, cradling each other, their promise keeping them warm._

_It was a promise that could not be kept._

_Battles called their group of four, Death screaming for their blood. In the weeks that followed, they lived in an incarnadine world. Their lives revolved around the sounds of steel against steel, of the screams of dying enemies, and dying comrades._

_They were breaking. Over and over._

_Tatsuma barely smiled; the war left him with nothing more to exchange for happiness. Fights with Takasugi were less frequent; they barely spoke to each other since Shouyou's death. Zura withdrew further into his role as general; all he thought about was battle strategy and survival. Nights on rooftops were quiet, no longer bothering to ease each other's worries. In the final weeks of the war, the name_ Shiroyasha _never suited Gintoki better._

_When it finally ended, they stood in the rubble of the kids they once were. War had changed them. Remnants of soft bodies were replaced completely by hardened muscles. They were broader, stronger. Their names were carried on the winds of time, woven into legends. The Four Heavenly Kings. Legendary heroes to their comrades, legendary demons to their enemies._

_Yet, they had changed too much. Eyes that once held hope were dull and cold. Shoulders that once touched constantly while sleeping by dying fires, now tensed at the sound of familiar footsteps. Backs that once stood together, supporting each other, were now supported by the wind._

_They no longer believed in themselves, let alone each other. Trying to stay together was a losing battle. They could never win. So, unable to bear that fact, their paths diverged._

* * *

Gintoki woke to the soft rumbles of men's snores coming from another room. He remembered, then. He was not at the Yorozuya, but in hiding in Akiba. The recent events flashed through his mind; he winced slightly at the dull throbbing in his head. His body felt heavy. 

However, the heaviness was a physical weight on his hips and stomach. Looking down through groggy eyes, he saw Shinpachi and Kagura sleeping against them, faces soft and calm. A hand was draped over the two, while another cradled Gintoki gently - Zura's. 

Gintoki willed his body to stop shuddering as tears raced down his cheeks. It had been so easy to let them into his life. Each day living carelessly, each day chasing jobs. Each day, it was easier to dance to a familiar rhythm. The rhythm of small footsteps on country roads; the rhythm of four fools chasing each other through forests in fleeting moments of peace.

Yet, looking at them now, bandages marring their skin, he regretted ever letting the two of them into the Yorozuya. He never should have pulled them into battles, into a life dangerously akin to his own. He didn't deserve their support or their care. He didn't deserve happiness. 

The hand behind his back slowly made its way into silver hair, gently caressing. Zura softly kissed his forehead, then his cheeks, chasing the streams of saltwater. Gintoki started slightly at the feeling of Zura's lips brushing against his skin. It was something he had almost forgotten, lost among the memories of death and carnage. 

"You deserve this the most, you know. Even though I know you think you don't." 

Silver hair fell over wet eyes. "Don't say that. I don't have the right to enjoy this - to enjoy being here with you and these stubborn idiots." His hand hovered over the two gently snoring against him, before joining Zura's own. 

"I've been running from the past. Ever since the war ended that's all I've been doing. All these jobs, all these battles, maybe I've just been running, trying to make up for all the mistakes I've made. Yet, I can't even do that right. Even since we were kids, people have just been taking me in, caring for me, protecting me much more than I've been trying to protect them." 

Slender fingers tentatively covered hardened ones. "You really haven't changed at all. Stupid." 

"Oi-" Gintoki had to stop his attack towards Zura's stupid forehead, for the two against him began to stir. 

A soft chuckle escaped Zura's lips. "Honestly. They're going to wake up, and this little spell of quiet will be all over." 

Gintoki pouted, attempting to attack again, before deciding against it, instead resting his hand on Zura's collarbone. 

"I don't need you to fix the past, Gintoki. That's not what we need." 

Gintoki stared at his childhood friend, at the sad expression on his face, hidden by a soft smile. 

"But he-" 

Zura shook his head, strands of hair moving like wisps of smoke. "He is not our Sensei." 

Gintoki's answer was a soft hum and a small shrug of shoulders. 

They stayed like that for a while, content to just lie there, listening to each other breathing. Unfortunately, it ended too quickly. 

"EHHHHH?!?" 

The two men groaned as Shinpachi and Kagura slammed their foreheads together, simultaneously digging into all their injuries. 

"Ow! What was that for Kagura-chan?!" 

"I see! So you're just a pervert too, huh?! Sleeping so close to a young maiden like myself - so scandalous!" The fiery-headed girl rolled backwards and stood, hands dramatically covering her chest. 

"Hah?! As if! Otsuu-chan is the only girl for me!" 

"Oh yeah?! Then what should I tell Pandemonium-san?" Mock kissing noises filled the room. 

Shinpachi was turning into a tomato. Tears made his eyes sparkle. "Don't-Don't bring her into this!" 

Zura's brow crinkled in confusion. "Pandemonium-san?" 

Gintoki waved his hand dismissively. "Some strange otherworldly creature our resident cherry boy shared his first kiss with." 

Shinpachi looked set to explode from embarrassment. "Sh-shut up!" 

Katsura sighed, folding his arms, consequently trapping Gintoki in the process. "I don't know what all the fuss is about. You two were quite content to sleep here last night." 

"Yeah, well that was when he was far, far away from me. When he was on Gin-chan's legs!" 

"It's not my fault I moved! Why did I have to sleep there anyway?!" Taking deep breaths, Shinpachi turned to the two samurai. "Also, where else would we sleep? I mean, of course there's the rest of the room, but there were no futons left." 

Sighing, Gintoki lazily ruffled his hair, leaning into Zura. "Well, can you leave now? I'm still tired, my body's sore, and you two are being way too loud." 

Kagura's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Oh? So you two can cuddle some more?" She gestured to Zura's hands around Gintoki. "Zura, I can't believe you had that kind of relationship with that loser perm-head." 

"L-leader!" The dark-haired samurai quickly unfolded his arms, clumsily attempting to hide his face, which was turning a nice shade of pink. 

"Kagura, what two grown men do together is not of anyone's concern. "Gintoki smirked deviously", fingers playing carelessly with Zura's hair. 

Shinpachi was fidgeting, pushing up his glasses and looking around. "It was surprising to see you last night. I mean, when we came in you and Gin-san just looked so… intimate." 

Zura turned pinker. It was amusing to see him so flustered, although Gintoki could feel his own cheeks heating up. They weren't being… _intimate_. They weren't anything - not even during the war. 

Sighing, Shinpachi pulled at his hair before standing up. "We better leave you two here then. We need to advertise the Yorozuya right away - so we can actually get paid." 

"Oi!" 

Moving towards the door, Shinpachi pushed the riled up Yato outside. 

"Hey, Shinpachi, Kagura?" They paused at the door, waiting. Gintoki looked at the ground. "I'm sorry, for snapping at you last night."

The two younger members of the Yorozuya merely nodded before dashing outside, still arguing about the sleeping arrangements of the night before. 

Zura shook his head at the two, while he pushed Gintoki over. Gintoki rolled onto his stomach, stretching like a cat, face scrunching slightly at the stress placed on wounds. 

Leaning on his forearms, Gintoki looked at the other man through bursts of silver hair. "They're lively today." 

A soft hum marked Zura's agreement. 

"They were lying you know." 

Gintoki crawled over to him, hands encircling the slender yet toned waist. He placed his chin on Zura's shoulder, felt the other man shiver at the movement. "Oh? About what?" 

"About the futons. As the leader of my own _Jouishi_ faction, I of course would have plenty of futons and blankets to spare." 

"Is that so? Then why-" 

"You are so stupid. Isn't it obvious? They wanted to stay as close to you as possible." 

Gintoki blinked. 

Zura wriggled around to face him, smiling in amusement at the expression on Gintoki's face. "They want to stay with you. Not because they feel like they owe you, but because they care about you, Sakata Gintoki. The man who wastes their money playing pachinko rather than paying them. The man who barely puts food on the table, and who rarely pays rent. They-" 

"Oi. I'm starting to sound like a really bad person here." 

"-want to stay with the man who cares for them too, in his own complex manner. The samurai who polished their souls, the samurai who raised them." 

A pause. 

Zura's hands moved slowly to card his fingers through soft, wavy hair. "God Gintoki, you don't even know how good of a person you are. You're so stupidly selfless that you'd rather destroy yourself over and over than see those you care for in pain. So don't give me that crap about not being worthy of being with the ones you want to protect. Accept that we'll always be with you because we-" 

Gintoki leaned in to press their mouths together. He knew what Zura was about to say, what words he was about to say, but he wasn't ready. Not yet. He couldn't accept those words, not when they were headed into a battle where he could lose everything. 

He could feel Zura stiffen, and Gintoki's heart pounded, worried he had made a mistake. Then he felt Zura smile against his lips as he tilted his head, their mouths slotting together perfectly. 

Zura knew. He knew Gintoki would be ready for those words later, when nights were quiet and the world was calm. For now, they would be content to indulge in this moment. 

Zura was warm against him, as Gintoki moved his hands to Zura's back, pulling him closer. The movement made him fall back onto the futon, Zura gently following, long, dark hair gently tickling Gintoki's skin. 

A moment passed and Zura pushed up, staring intently at Gintoki's face. His breathing was coming out in short pants. Then he smiled, affection radiating from him. 

"You're allowed to be weak, Gintoki. You're allowed to cry and feel despair, feel like you can't do anything. If you're breaking, then break, because broken swords can be reforged. We may never be what we once were, but Life will continue to hammer away, making us stronger; making us better." 

Zura's hands moved to cup Gintoki's face. Gintoki leaned into the touch, feeling the path of his tears - and Zura's, which fell lightly on his face, mixing with his own. 

"Do you - that night, after Sensei died - you remember our promise, don't you?" 

"Mhm." 

Zura placed his forehead against Gintoki's, closing his eyes. Their breath mingled together. Gintoki quietly studied the Joui patriot's face, the face of his comrade since their youth. He'd barely changed since then, though perhaps his face was more slender, hardened by a life less than kind. 

When Zura opened his eyes again, they were bright and determined. "Well, we're going to keep it this time. When this is over, we'll stay together, with everyone." 

"Everyone?" 

The look in Zura's eyes was wistful. "We can try," he murmured. 

Gintoki knew who Zura meant, not feeling the need to confirm or deny his thoughts. "Everyone then." 

Zura smiled and placed a chaste kiss on Gintoki's forehead. Then, he sat up, wiped his tears and made a move to stand. Gintoki caught his arm, gripping it gently. 

"Where're you going, Zura?" 

"It's not Zura, it's Katsura. I'm heading out. I'm still a leader of _Jouishi_ patriots, so I need to ensure our safety is not compromised." 

Gintoki whined at that. He wanted more time. Just a little longer, before everything went to hell. 

Zura pouted straight back at him. "Don't give me that look. I've got things to do and you need to get actual rest." 

"I got loads already," Gintoki protested. 

"I meant rest where your heartbeat is even, and your breathing isn't shallow the whole time." 

Unfortunately, he could not argue with that. Gintoki knew Zura would force him to look after himself. The dark-haired samurai had been doing so since their youth. 

Yet he didn't want to laze around. Not this time. Not for this fight. 

Perhaps sensing his discomfort, Zura offered Gintoki a gentle smile. "Stop worrying. Everything is fine. Just get some rest. Then we'll go, okay?" 

Gintoki sighed in resignation. "Fine. Get out of here then, you stupid wighead." 

Zura's laugh was bright. Planting one last kiss on Gintoki's lips, Zura left leaving Gintoki alone. Settling back into the futon, he closed his eyes, allowing sleep to wash over him. 

One more time. He would walk the path of death and destruction one more time, and he would protect everything. 

**Author's Note:**

> (Completed 30/6/2019) 
> 
> What happens when you listen to the Dear Evan Hansen soundtrack while reading Gintama I guess.


End file.
